


Sunsets and Apples

by hallucinari



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallucinari/pseuds/hallucinari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a time of war, his greatest battle is the one with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunsets and Apples

When Draco joined the Order, he didn't know that getting invited to their weddings was a part of the deal. He was very careful on keeping his grumpy reputation among all of them but during some days, he can't help but listen to Fred and George discuss their joke shop over supper. Draco would make sure that his smirks remain unseen, and his easiest solution was to climb up his bedroom as soon as he finishes his meal. He would laugh silently whenever Ginny uses the Bat Bogey Hex on someone. Although he would still pretend to be so interested in reading Wizardry: Through the Years. He liked brief chats with Lupin over tea during evenings, discussing what it was like in Hogwarts during their time. Sometimes even a polite nod to Ron makes him feel at ease. But he made sure that they never see that he was growing to care for them. 

It was a Malfoy thing, he tells himself. The Malfoys walk with their heads high. Although some nights, he would stare at the ceiling wishing he was in his bed in the Malfoy Manor instead. His father was in Azkaban and he knew that his mother despised him for leaving. He was sorry for leaving as well. But he knew that he could never live with himself knowing that what he was fighting alongside these people who killed for the fun of it. These people who threw Unforgivable Curses around like children playing tag. He was sorry for leaving his mother but he wasn't ever going to be sorry for joining the Order. 

Somehow, things got easier when Granger arrived. It was still difficult trying to draw his eyes away whenever she walks past him. It was difficult speaking to her, sometimes it was difficult being near her. But in the middle of darkness and chaos, just like the calm of the rain, she was still as beautiful as he can remember. Of course, even before joining the Order, Draco would tell himself that everything he and Hermione ever were, whatever it was, is now nothing but a memory. But he can still remember Hermione coming up to sit with him up the Astronomy Tower for hours until the sun was coming up and not a single word was said. He can remember days when both of them happen to be in the library at the same time and so they would sit in the same table. He can remember glaring contests and arguments on Quidditch. He can remember her smile and the kiss he never got the guts for. And now she was here, only a couple of bedrooms away but he never considered knocking on her door. If he did, what was he supposed to say, anyway? "Hello, Granger. I was a prick to you, but you liked me, right?"

But as usual, Draco liked to believe that it was, after all, the past and it doesn't matter anymore. It was nothing more than Draco trying to annoy her like always. Besides, he knew that Ron and Hermione were together and it was nothing to Draco. But as he stood in the corner, watching Bill and Fleur's wedding before his eyes, he can't deny the twisting feeling in his gut when he saw Hermione speaking to Ron. He avoided being in the same place they both were in the headquarters for as long as he could. And now he hasn't got anywhere to hide. 

Tonks was standing beside him as long lost cousins reunited. Her hair was curly and blonde, coming down to her shoulders. Draco bit the apple in his hand, and his gaze was still avoiding the direction where Hermione and Ron were seated just as him and Tonks were avoiding speaking of their Malfoy roots. 

"Ginny and the others don't like her at all, apparently," Tonks was saying, taking a sip from her glass of firewhiskey. 

Draco shook his head. "I'm not surprised. Bloody nosy, that one." Tonks shook her head and smirked at Draco. 

"What about you? Haven't found your nosy bride yet?" Tonks raised her eyebrows. Draco grimaced and shook his head. Although he briefly shot his gaze towards Hermione who was now speaking to Luna. 

"Now you're being nosy," says Draco to his cousin who chuckled. "What about you, was was your wedding like?"

Tonks smiled at Draco, "Well, that's a question I'd never expect to hear from you. You alright, Draco?" says Tonks with a chuckle.

"I, er-- I would have come," says Draco silently. Tonks put her hand on his shoulder as Draco kept his gaze on the floor. 

"Here comes Hermione," says Tonks, not wanting to prolong Draco's embarrassment, seeing that his ears went red. Draco looked up, taking another bite of the apple in his hand. What Tonks doesn't know is that his ears were red because Hermione was coming, not because he voiced out his cheesy remark to her. 

"Tonks," says Hermione, nodding gently. Her eyes barely meeting Draco's. "Mrs. Weasley says she needs you with something," she says. 

"Right away," says Tonks, winking at Draco before she leaves. Draco clears his throat that seemed to be bubbling with irrational anger, at complete loss for words. A little voice inside his head was mocking him saying, 'You're angry because she was speaking to someone else. You're jealous, Draco.' He was then left with Hermione, awkwardly shuffling her feet, apparently searching someone from the crowd. 

"Er, hi Draco," says Hermione, swiftly glancing at him. Draco nodded curtly, taking another bite from his apple. Pocketing his left hand, he stood straighter, making himself look too interested in watching Fred slice a piece of cake. He still refused to speak to Hermione, unsure if it was the tugging feeling in his gut seeing Hermione with Ron or his unresolved issues with her.

Never has he been more relieved to see Luna in his entire life as she walks over to them with a butterbeer in hand. 

"Hello, Draco," says Luna. "Luna," Draco says sternly, nodding slightly. She looked from Draco to Hermione and took a swig from her drink. "You two seem quiet," says Luna. Draco's ears were hot and his hands shook as he took another bite of his apple. Bill Weasley was dancing with his mum from a distance. 

Luna leans over to Draco. "Hermione tells me she's been meaning to speak with you. Don't know why she's quiet all of a sudden," says Luna and Draco furrowed his eyebrows, choking a little bit. Hermione's eyes widened, catching her jaw drop but closing her mouth immediately. Luna walked away with a tiny smile. 

"Don't know why you ever say anything to Loony, Granger," says Draco as soon as Luna is out of earshot, he kept his eyes on Bill and Molly dancing. He pushed aside thoughts of his own mother as he felt dreadful enough speaking Hermione like this. For a moment, he wondered if he was the only one who was in such a difficult mood in the wedding. 

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but she stopped, slowly calming herself. "How are you, Draco?" says Hermione, her tone was as calming as ever.

"Oh, I feel sensational," says Draco, biting a large chunk of apple. His overly cheerful tone made Hermione frown. "And how are you and Weasley?" says Draco, gesturing to Ron who was seated on a table with Gabrielle Delacour. Hermione tensed, crossing her arms across her chest. 

"We're sensational" says Hermione as she stepped sideways to face Draco, now she was the one scowling. He took his last bit of apple and pocketed both his hands, chewing the inside of his cheeks. 

"That true? What Luna said?" says Draco, clenching his jaws. Hermione looked bewildered, quite unlike the Hermione that Draco has come to know. Calm. Collected. Always thinking straight even in the middle of a conflict of emotions. She has always been, according to Draco, the tons of possible personifications of the word 'headstrong.'

"Well, er, yes actually I was meaning to speak with you," says Hermione. "Ginny tells me that you barely speak with anyone but Tonks and Lupin. And, I suppose I was worried that you... Er, got lonely." Draco stared for a moment, not knowing if he should reply with something sarcastic or something that would be the closest thing he can utter to "thank you." And in a last second decision, the tug in his stomach returned with a vague memory of seeing Hermione dancing with Krum during the Yule Ball and every single time he's seen Hermione speaking to Weasley (sometimes even to Potter) basically ever since Draco learned to give up his stubborn appeal to himself to stop finding Hermione attractive. 

"Well, you don't have to worry. I never get lonely," says Draco as he begins to stalk away. "Fancy a drink, Granger?" Hermione followed behind him as he walked to the table full of jugs and tall glass dispensers full of beverages as labeled. He could hear Tonks laugh giddily as George accidentally makes a punching telescope go off. He dodged the mini fist in time. "Barny Weasley" was in the corner speaking with Aunt Muriel. Draco found the music quite pleasing, now a beautiful fusion of violins and the organ. He grabbed a glass and filled it halfway with pumpkin juice. 

"But if you do get lonely, you can always just... Knock," says Hermione as Draco finished his half-glass in one swig. He pressed his lips together.

"Why are you suddenly so worried about me, Granger?" says Draco, furrowing his eyebrows. 

"You might not notice it Draco but I've always cared about you," says Hermione in a stronger tone. Almost resentfully. Draco felt his ears grow hot and Hermione's cheeks were flushed. She sighed, taking a glass of butterbeer for herself. Draco felt his lungs shrink in his chest. 

"I've been quite a mess these days," says Draco, again refusing to look Hermione in the eyes. Before she could respond, Draco was already staring at the large silvery patronus that walked gracefully in. The room froze, and the silvery figure spoke in Kingsley's voice.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

The place was dead quiet for a splitsecond before everyone errupted into panic. Swishing robes and loud pops filled Hermione's ears as she drew her wand. She was stuck in the middle of moving people as she realized that Draco wasn't beside her anymore. She called out his name, seeking the back of his head from the crowd around her. There was a loud clutter of voices and people screaming but she heard Tonks yelling out Draco's name from a distance. Hermione seeked the direction of Tonks' gaze and spotted Draco farther to her right. 

His head was swishing from side to side as if searching for someone. A look of panic and urgency was on his face. The crowd was lessening and various different spells were thrown around. Hermione saw Mr. Weasley dueling two Death Eaters at once. Fred and George were running to the back of the tent, casting protective spells as they ran. Hermione couldn't spot Harry and Ron. 

"Protego!" yelled Tonks, pulling Draco behind her with evident force, seeming to be arguing to Draco about something. Tonks stunned the Death Eater, spinning around to turn to Draco. 

Hermione pushed herself to where Tonks and Draco were. People were still apparating everywhere around them, some people were still duelling Death Eaters from left and right. Mr. Weasley dueled more Death Eaters behind Tonks as she turned to Hermione and Draco. Hermione gripped Draco's wrist as he was suddenly very pale. His wand wasn't drawn but there was panic in his eyes. "Listen, find somewere to hide, alright? Remus has Ron and Harry. Keep each other safe. We'll meet you in the headquarters in two days," says Tonks in a tone so low it was almost impossible to hear. But Hermione's senses were sharp and with years of training under Professor Binns' lectures, she processed the instructions quite well. With a nod and a squeeze to Draco's shoulder, Tonks turned aroud and battled alongside Arthur. Hemione and Draco were being pulled away by the crowd. 

Hermione held Draco's wrist tight and apparated. The squeezing sensation hit them and in a moment, the chaos was gone. When they disapparated, Draco was lying on his back, running his hand over the front of his robes, feeling for his wand. He looked up, seeing nothing but trees and a clear blue sky. Almost as if the wedding, the Death Eaters barging in, didn't happen at all. For a moment, it seemed like that was all from another lifetime. 

"Are you alright?" says Hermione kneeling down beside Draco. He swallowed thickly, propping himself up with his elbows. Both of them were out of breath. A few strands of Hermione's hair was trying to escape the bun on top of her head. "What happened to you back there?" says Hermione. But Draco shook his head and slowly rose from the ground. He looked around from where they were standing and there was an endless view of trees and dried leaves. 

"Where are we?" asks Draco urgently, a demanding tone in his voice. 

"Forest of Dean. Thought we'd be safest here," says Hermione, rising to her feet. "Help me set up the tent." 

"Tent? I don't suppose you know how to transfigure leaves to tents, do you?" says Draco, now being a bit cheeky. He was beginning to relax, to think straight. Therefore, realizing that he was, after a long time, alone with Hermione. She rolled her eyes and got up on her feet. 

"Just a moment," says Hermione. She walked past Draco, raising both her hands in the air as if feeling an invisible wall. Her wand on her hand, she began casting protective enchantments. Draco watched her at work, still amazed at Hermione's ability to cope with whatever situation was at hand. He crossed his arms and walked beside Hermione and he stood there until she was finished. 

Hermione picked her purse from the ground and began pulling out parts of a tent and again, Draco stood there amazed. "A simple expansion charm," she says as if reading Draco's mind. 

"Seems like something you would do," says Draco, drawing out his wand to put the tent up. He thanked his stars for having it happen that he was of age and could do magic outside Hogwarts. Inside the tent was a couple of bunk beds, a bathroom, a table and a few chairs and the lights from several lanterns were already up. Hermion dug her arm into the purse, pulling out a black knit sweater similar to the one Mrs. Weasley makes during Christmas and a pair of denim trousers. She handed the muggle clothing to Draco. 

Draco stared at her like she's gone completely mental. 

"Oh, honestly," says Hermione, shoving the clothes to Draco's hands. Draco shoved them back to Hermione's hands. "This isn't the time for your prejudice, Malfoy. You can't sleep in those," says Hermione, gesturing to Draco's dress robes. It wasn't actually prejudice. Draco was just being very stubborn. 

"Watch me," says Draco. He walked to the bunk bed on the left and he removed his dress robes, leaving him in his black trousers and a white button-up shirt. Hermione scoffs from the table as she took out a bottle of water from her purse. Draco rolled up his sleeves and untucked his shirt as he kicked off his shoes, sitting down on the bed. Draco remained mysterious over his actions before they apparated to the forest. In all honestly, he was hoping for even a sign that his mother was there. It was very unlikely, of course, but Draco was so used to these figures coming in and out of the Manor in the past that he associated them to his mother or his father coming home. He dug his face to his hands, suddenly feeling very homesick although he was unsure of where 'home' was exactly. He wondered if Tonks made it out alright.

Hermione walked to the bed opposite of Draco's and she watched him rub his eyes. She still had that effect on him. When she's around, he feels as if all his worries and all his pain are so microscopic. It was as if he could take on the world and make it alive as long as she was beside him. And here she was, now dressed in a grey plaid shirt with denim pants. Her hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail and she was looking at Draco like he was the lone book in the shelves that she could have picked up and she wondered if Draco ever felt more for her than he's shown. 

Draco rose from his seat and walked out the tent. Dusk have set the light dim around them and there was absolute silence. As he sat in the grass, he almost couldn't believe that the past two hours actually did happen. He took something from his pocket, a glass figurine of a serpent, all curled up as if it was sleeping. He closed his fist around it. A family heirloom. The last he would ever get. 

There was a crunch of dried leaves beside him and Hermione was walking out of the tent as well. She sat herself down beside Draco, and to her surprise he didn't move away. It was nearly completely dark now and the crickets from the trees were beginning to buzz.

Draco found himself listening to Hermione's breaths, sometimes holding his own to hear her exhale. He wanted to touch her, to feel her hand as this moment was so painfully familiar. It was always this way. The two of them in one place, niether of them were speaking but Draco. Oh, how he ached to talk to her, to hear her voice, make her laugh. This was exactly how it was before both of them would part ways, before he can properly look her in the eyes without pretending to glare. How he would regret it in his sleep.

Draco cleared his throat as he noticed another sound in the air, an unfamiliar melody. He listened carefully, and realized that it was coming from inside the tent. It sounded like a blur of muffled static and a slow tune.

"Accio radio," says Draco. The little rectangular thing flew to his hand and he listened to the sound. It wasn't anything Draco has ever heard before, and it was certainly not by a wizard musician. It dawned on Draco that it was muggle music. "What's this rubbish?" he says, his face blank. Hermione looked flustered again. 

"It's, er, my parents' song. They used to dance to this when, er..." says Hermione. 'When they remembered,' she meant to say, but she couldn't find the heart to say it out loud. Draco set the radio down between them. He kept his mouth shut knowing that Hermione's parents had absolutely no memory of her. A sacrifice much similar to Draco's. Especially in that moment, his hand was almost literally aching to touch hers, just to give her even the slightest bit of comfort he can. The music playing was quite mellow, almost sad. 

"I miss mine, too," says Draco, finally looking at Hermione.

She smiles, nodding her head. "That's the first thing you said to me today that wasn't completely obnoxious."

Draco chuckled. The rustle in the trees, along with the cold air was comforting. Hermione hugged her knees and leaned her head on them, craning her neck to face Draco. His hands were still fiddling with the glass serpent. 

"You remind me of someone from this fairytale," says Hermione. Draco raised an eyebrow. "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot," she says and Draco laughed. 

"Oh, don't laugh. It's true. A wizard with the annoying cauldron who bugged him until he ended up aiding everyone," says Hermione. 

"By cauldron, you mean yourself?" says Draco. Hermione's smile shrunk, changing into a gentle smirk. 

"I meant your inner cherub, actually," says Hermione. 

"My inner cherub?" Draco grimaces. "Like those buggers from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?" 

Hermione laughed. Draco found the sound so enchanting that he would have sat there all night listening to her laugh. He smiled, finding her wit contageous. The song stopped playing and again, there was absolute silence. 

"I like you better this way, Draco," says Hermione. It was now dark and he looked at her, and her eyes were sparkling like a crackling fire. 

"For the record, I don't have an inner cherub," says Draco. Hermione chuckled. "You should get inside, Granger," says Draco. "I'll keep watch." Hermione hesitated for a moment, but nodded her head. She walked inside but a moment later, she walked back out. 

"Draco," she whispers. She tossed him something round and he caught it with his hand. It was an apple. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Good night, Granger," he says before Hermione walked in.

"Night, Malfoy."

Hermione, climbed into her bed and she closed her eyes but remained awake. She smiled, chuckling lightly to make sure Draco doesn't hear. He remained outside for what felt like hours. For all he knows, he might have. But he felt like somewhere up the trees, some giddy cherubs were floating, giggling at him. He smiled, biting the apple. He would have shot arrows at those cherubs, too. 

In the morning when he woke up, Hermione was sitting by the table looking outside. Her hand was wrapped on a cup on the table and her hair was wild and all over the place. Her nails were tapping on the cup and Draco sat up, not daring to make a sound, and he stayed there, sitting on the bed stealing small glances at her as he traced the lines of his palm until she noticed that he was awake. 

"Morning," says Hemione. She smiled and turned her head back to stare out the tent's slit. "You sure you don't want those clothes?" 

Draco walked to the table, sitting on the chair opposite of Hermione. "Maybe if another hippogriff claws this one open," says Draco casually. Hermione stared at him as if she have just heard Draco speaking to Crabbe and Goyle from the Slytherin table making stupid jokes. His tone was quite similar to Draco's pestering tone in their early years. Hermione set her cup down, exhaling deeply. 

"Hermione, I'm joking," says Draco. Hermione blinked at him, amused at his use of her first name, at the same time aggravated at his idea of a joke. He grinned at Hermione as she massaged the bridge of her nose, hiding a faint smile with the back of her hand. 

All morning, he walked around the tent, as they listened to the radio for casualties and familiar names. Hermione sat on the bed, her hands was by her lips, clasped together as if in prayer. Draco paced around, desperate for news from the Order. It was almost unbearable sitting in one place while their world was at war. While the people they cared about were in the same danger as they were. It was noon when they had enough and decided to turn the radio off. The mood was miserable as if a dementor was close by. And almost naturally, there was silence. 

Draco's heartbeat always raced whenever it got quiet between them. Hermione was twisting her fingers, seeming to mirror Draco's nervous gestures. 

"Are you alright, Draco?" says Hermione at last. 

"Will it make a difference if I say no?"

"That was a stupid question, I'm sorry. Of course you're not," she says, looking at her hands. Draco sat beside her.

"I've always loved this place," she says a while later, again staring out the tent. 

"You've been here before?" asks Draco. 

"With my parents," she says, nodding her head. She looked back at Draco, a pained smile on her face and her eyes glistened with tears that she wouldn't let fall. Draco moved closer to her and she leaned her head on his shoulder, letting out a whimper, finally allowing herself to cry. He laid his cheek onto the top of her head, wanting nothing but for her to find rest in him, to feel like there was refuge in his arms just like there was hope in her presence. He held her until she sobbed and until she stopped sobbing. 

She laid her head on Draco's lap as Draco leaned on the wall beside the bed. She was humming a tune that was good enough to be a lullaby. He was drawing circles on her arm with his thumb and he wondered if she was feeling the same way he was. 

"We're going back tomorrow," says Hermione in a whisper. "I wish we can stay."

Draco remained quiet until Hermione stopped humming, instead her breaths became slow and calm. Draco closed his eyes, his fingers tangled into Hermione's hair, letting himself remember this. He found it safe to let himself dissolve into her because in their world of good and evil, she was the in-between. There was madness in her absence and madness in her presence. When he looked at her, she was bright and beautiful and she doesn't look back at him and he is simply lost in the crowd, hidden from her sight and he feared that it was always how they were going to be. But as she slept silently in his lap, he hoped that the world and whoever gods were watching from above gazes upon them and see how much it takes for something broken to reach for something barely real. 

Hermione woke up and Draco was on the table, chewing on another apple she left on the table that morning. The sun was setting and their tent was illuminated by a dark orange. She walked past Draco to sit outside. Draco followed. 

He sat beside her, exactly as they did yesterday.

"This seems familiar," says Draco. 

"Tell me, Draco, how many more sunsets it's going to take for you to realize that I care much about you," says Hermione without looking at him. He looked at her, puzzled but his heart was racing. 

"Weasley okay with that?" says Draco, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. 

"I don't want Ron, Draco," she says. "I've always wanted you."

He paused before making any sudden movements that would surprise Hermione or himself. She looked at him and he looked back at her eyes. They were hazel, almost golden. He let his hand travel to her cheek, to her ears. He tilted her head back and kissed her. Again, he let himself dissolve in her. And this time, she dissolved in him. 

"Granger, if you're fooling around, I swear," says Draco. 

"You are so incredibly stubborn, Malfoy. Take my bloody word for it," says Hermione, leaning her forehead into his.

"I should have told you sooner," breathed Draco. 

Hermione chuckled and Draco asked the universe another favor. To keep her there. So for every morning, he'd find something worth waking up for. So for every morning, he'll see something golden, something hazel, even in a world of black and white.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction that I've ever written that was of my main fandom. I'm really glad about it and I hope you enjoyed reading it as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> x, ysabella m.


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